Fifty Dollar LegsAdrian Stumpp

Zach Hutson brought his skis parallel, leaned on his good knee, and slid to a sideways stop at the horn-crest. The sun rained above him. At 13,000 feet it seemed close enough to touch. Cara came through the incline hard and slid likewise at his thigh. He was breathing hard a visible stream. Clouds rose porous white from his nose and mouth. All the valley lay before him in an amber glaze, the hotels and condos and lifts and shops. He listened to Cara pant in bursts over his shoulder and knew she was winded. He was relieved. He’d grown accustomed to girls being smarter than he, but wasn’t ready to be out skied by one. He had torn a meniscus tendon in a football injury two summers ago that kept him off the slopes last year. There were several points throughout the day he was certain Cara would outlast him. His leg ached and his lungs burned. Before Cara could catch her breath he said he was ready for the last descent and asked if she wanted to go up one more time or call it a day. She reluctantly submitted. Zach beat her off the crest, clenched down his thighs to keep his skis straight, and drew a line on the Hotel Saint Bernard. Halfway down Cara passed him, but his knee hurt too brutally for him to care. When he stopped it buckled and shook and nearly collapsed. Skiers crouched beneath great domed umbrellas on the patio and nursed cocoa and frankfurters. Other tourists lounged at the sidebar over steins of frothy beer. Zach joined Cara and all four of their parents at a table near the stairs. He took off his goggles, stunned by the double brilliance of sunshine—from the sky and also reflected up from the snow—and suffered a temporary blindness. His mom asked how the leg was treating him and he said not so well.The six of them lounged on the porch a while. This was their second day on the mountain and already the catch up conversations were through. Cara sat with one leg rested over the back of a nearby chair. She produced a new box of cigarettes and packed them lazily against her palm.

“Cara,” Mrs. Neal sang sweetly, “I wish you wouldn’t smoke.” Cara peeled the cellophane carefully from the pack as if it were food and set a cigarette between her lips the blood color of grapefruit. The cold turned the rest of her face especially pale. Mrs. Neal turned to Zach’s mom and said, “They say you’re usually safe if they haven’t started before they reach the legal age. Cara’s anomalous, though. She didn’t start smoking until she was twenty.”“Are you done talking about me like I’m not here?” Cara said. There was nothing inclement about her tone. She simply asked. Mrs. Neal apologized. “It’s just a little embarrassing for me, dear, your father being a doctor and all.”Dr. Neal, a shy man, smiled. He was fragile and middle-aged with a permanent slouch and a full head of hair. The chest of his expensive shirt deflated like a sinkhole on his bent frame. He crossed his legs in the style of women. The sun went down and the snow cooled off, chasing all on the patio indoors. Neals and Hutsons joined a billiards tournament in the bar, and Zach elected to go back to his room and catch a movie on pay-per-view. His parents got him a separate room as he was twenty now and deserved his privacy. Cara, a year older than Zach, was not as fortunate. Her parents had taken a two-bedroom suite. “God, Zach,” Cara begged, “let me come with, huh?”Crossing the lobby Zach was accosted by a Texan in sweatpants and a K-Mart ball cap. His belly dipped deep over the elastic band about his waist. He ran Zach through the gamut of skier jargon. He delighted at words like “piste,” “bunny,” and “bloodwagon” as if they comprised his first exposure to a new tongue. He repeated himself and, finding his enthusiasm unreciprocated, fled the scene.“You know that guy?” Cara asked, appalled.

“Lloyd? Sure. Met him yesterday.”Cara grimaced. In the elevator she told Zach how yesterday afternoon, at check in, this same degenerate had leaned in close to her and slipped a crisply folded fifty dollar bill into her hand, searching deeply and, for sure, way creepy her confused young eyes. He told her thank you so very much for having worn the faux-leather mini-skirt she’d bought special for the trip, as it would be a tragedy on the level of starving Somalians to hide such perfectly shaped legs, and he would masturbate to their tribute for some time to come. She was paralyzed with shame and shocked at his gall, unable to speak or move. He walked away as comfortably as he’d approached and rejoined his wife and children across the lobby. Cara wanted to drop the new bill on the ground and escape from it but somehow the idea of it sitting there exposed for all to see was a more humiliating prospect. She shoved it in her jacket pocket. There it sat still; she’d not had the nerve even to look at it since.Zach laughed. Certainly, it was disrespectful but ole’ Lloyd was harmless enough and the insult had been laced with a great compliment. He understood she was insulted but told her frankly, if he suspected anyone yanked it to the thought of his legs, he would be mostly flattered and a little sick to his stomach.Cara told Zach he was a pig in case he didn’t know. She reflected aloud that perhaps she was partly to blame for what happened, since the skirt might understandably have been misconstrued as scandalous. After all, it barely came to the middle of her thigh, and she couldn’t very well wear something like that and then be offended when men noticed. Though in her defense, she stressed, it really hadn’t occurred to her that men would notice. She was not in the business of thinking about men when she tried something on—only if she liked how it looked. No excuse, of course, but the skirt must have seemed vulgar since it was very cold yesterday and absurd for her to wear such a short skirt if not to attract admirers. She was talking to herself at this point. She paid no attention to Zach.They watched a physical comedy on pay-per-view and fell asleep. Mrs. Neal knocked looking for Cara at almost three in the morning. She found them both dressed as they’d last been seen. Cara answered and her mother saw the bed had not been turned down, and Zach slept at one end with his face to the wall.* * * *Michael Hutson was a former rancher turned real estate man. He moved his family when Zach was three to a two-bedroom place on Lincoln Street in Afton, Wyoming, next door to the Michael Neal family. Neal was a private practitioner and had lived on Lincoln Street all his married life. The two Michael’s were instant friends and their wives, Julia Neal and Janet Hutson, quickly followed suit. Zach was an only child, and Cara the youngest of three by sixteen years. The two grew up together virtually alone and to alleviate confusion always called the others’ parents by surnames. Every year since the children were aged eight and nine years the two families took a two-week vacation together to the Taos Ski Valley in northern New Mexico.The two children were never as close as their parents may have liked. They bickered like siblings until they were old enough to avoid being cast together. In school they ran in different crowds—Zach was an athlete, Cara an untouchable. She took solace in debate and drama clubs. She spent her lunch hour a pariah in the library falling in love with Blanche Dubois and Biff Loman. Zach meanwhile trounced tailbacks, and the two worlds were utterly incongruous. Both thought of the other as a caricature, a stereotype.The doctor’s house towered above his neighbor’s. The Hutson’s had no sprinkler system, and all summer it was Zach’s chore to pull the oscillating head from one end of the yard to the other. A full moon etched the night in a crisper hue. He turned from repositioning the hose to see the light come on in the Neal’s upstairs bathroom. Cara Neal stood with her back to the window wrapped fresh from the shower in a towel. Her dark hair splashed upon warmly freckled shoulders. She dried quickly and wrapped the towel around damp hair and for several moments hung fully nude in the lighted window. Then a second towel around her and the light snapped off. Sometimes the curtain was pulled and sometimes it was not. Sometimes her soft behind faced the glass and others the small buds. The Hutson yard was not lighted and Zach bent in shadow beyond the thin fan of shimmering water. It was the first time he’d ever seen a naked girl and he found her obliviously posed a dozen times throughout the summer and more the following summer. Abruptly he was shocked at the notion that he was not spying on Cara; she knew he watched her. He watched more now for signs of her collusion than for the miracle of her flesh, some false or unnatural movement that would betray her to him. Many times he thought he saw it and then was not so sure. Eventually he toppled cheerleaders as well as tailbacks but the vision of Cara’s newly clean skin haunted him more than these. Though they’d never shared anything he felt an intimacy with Cara he could not recapture. She’d been the first girl his eyes beheld in all her glory and was rendered special in his imagination. He ached for her some nights and wanted very much for her to love him.The fall after graduating Cara left Afton for the University of Utah in Salt Lake City. The year apart made him brave. In Taos that winter on their annual ski trip he’d mentioned to Cara he used to have a crush on her, but she’d been dismissive. Afton was a small town and Zach Hutson had a reputation for loving girls intensely for a short season, their hearts all used up he moved on without looking back, not even for pity. He went to the University of Wyoming the following year on a football scholarship that ended with his knee injury. He stayed to study American History and bemoaned a future most likely in primary education. He’d decided not to join the family in Taos last year since he couldn’t ski, but heard from his mother that Cara had come, and this year planned his winter break around their first meeting in two years.They were on the slopes half a day before Zach couldn’t stand it anymore. His knee inflamed and lost mobility. At the last crest before the lodge he confessed his pain to Cara. He told her not to feel bad about ditching him at the hotel, but she hesitated. There wasn’t much for Zach to do by himself in the middle of the day. He told her he planned to grab a hot compress and maybe catch a flick in his room, but she felt bad about leaving him, so she accepted when he offered to buy her lunch.He learned over hot roast beef stuffed baguettes that Cara had aspired to the stage and already as a sophomore had been cast in favorable roles. She was already looking forward to her graduate studies, however, as her aspirations had shifted to cinematography. Zach, on the other hand, found the Civil War interesting but couldn’t express why. A silence followed, a sigh, a blush. “Are you seeing anyone?” Zach asked.“Hmm,” Cara said, gone suddenly rigid, made a face, tensed her shoulders, and looked awkwardly around the room. “Hmmm, no, well, kind of. It’s complicated.”“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” Zach said. “It’s not my business.” Cara relaxed and seemed to thank him with a look. She returned the question, and he said there was no one. “Oh, I don’t believe that for a second,” Cara teased. “Zach Hutson single with no prospects. Makes me worried about the world.”Zach smiled, not sure whether she was being friendly or cruel. “I think you have a lot of bad assumptions about me. I’ve changed a lot. Growing up does that.” She demurred under his eyes. Zach said, “I was disappointed when I woke up this morning and you were gone.”“My mom came looking for me. You slept right through it.”“I was hoping you’d still be there.”“Why?”Zach shrugged and looked out the window. The hotel was a rustic wood and brick affair with a plaster façade that resembled a Swiss lodge. The lounge opened on the kiddy hill, and Zach concentrated on the children wobbling from one end to the other. He was behaving poorly and didn’t know why. He was usually very capable in these situations but now felt like a fool. “You wanna come up and watch a movie again?” he asked.“I’d better not.”“We could go for a walk or something?”Cara blushed again. “Actually, I think I feel like skiing after all.”Zach nodded. He remained seated until she’d left him. It wasn’t that he’d never been snubbed before; his romantic endeavors failed as often as not. He usually didn’t mind. He knew he wasn’t for everybody and there was no shortage of girls. He was half conscious that what he wanted wasn’t Cara’s presence or even her body, but a memory of her that gave mysticism back to the world. The sight of her naked body colored all his experience. It had called to something hidden within him and brought an urgency to his days. He had not been ready and was warped because of it. He had always felt unwhole and hoped if he could touch her as she had him, they could share this state together. If there was any such thing as soul mates, it must be this. He suspected that having her would not restore freshness to him but he feared nothing could and, not knowing what else to do, decided her pursuit to be as good a course as any.He wandered around the game room a while and found a handful of girls inviting. He didn’t approach them, however, as he had no appetite. He was not in a mood for girls. He could think only of Cara. * * * *Cara couldn’t think about anything but Zach and, frankly, it pissed her off. She sunbathed on the balcony sucking fresh lemons with sugar, and tried to figure out what he must be thinking. The suite her parents rented had a partitioned balcony prime for sunbathing and, because they had the nervous habit of opening closed doors to encourage air circulation, it was Cara’s best chance at some privacy. The sun was blinding in the early afternoons and it was surprisingly warm outside. Cara had loved Zach since childhood. Her older siblings—a brother and sister—were both gone to college when the Hutson’s moved next door, and until then she’d hurt with loneliness. Zach was more of a favorite toy than a playmate. She would dress him up, pack him happily around. She would flop him into her red wagon and pull him around the block, delighting in his giggles. When she would finally stop he’d scoot his butt forward in the wagon and point at the handle. Yes, she thought, I loved him then.Just a few years later he was already annoyed by her doting. She was not invited to help build forts on the creek banks. Only begrudged could she invite herself. Her parents brought her to the Hutson’s on nights they played canasta and Zach ignored her. He locked himself in his room to play video games. She wasn’t allowed even to watch without his parents forcing him to let her. She felt embarrassed by herself.In those days she was a painfully quiet girl, skinny and boyish. She spoke with her eyes closed. It was the only way she could combat her towering self-consciousness. She wouldn’t speak to strangers at all and if forced to sometimes cried, for what was her self-consciousness she perceived as her inferiority, an idea only compounded by Zach’s disdain. She explained to herself later that Zach was only growing up. He wanted his own friends, wanted to go forth, discover the world—find himself—and the more new reference points he had the more precisely he would know what he wanted. Still, a girl’s heart is a living thing—in point of fact, Cara told herself, a girl needs her heart more than the heart needs a girl—and though she was able to forgive Zach she was never able to open herself so widely again. She understood Zach’s reasons for leaving her—he’d simply reached a certain stage before she had—but part of her couldn’t heal from the unfaithful heart of a ten-year-old. All this she could get over. It was even cute. But high school had been miserable for her, and Zach—Zach didn’t care. It embarrassed her now to think that she had been an unlikable teenager. All those cruel girls, how could someone so pretty be cruel, she had wondered. Memories presented themselves to her like old nightmares she could only remember in parts. She was angry with herself for feeling ashamed to remember that time. The sneers, insults, taunts. No one would sit by her in the cafeteria. Sitting alone made her an easy target so she started bringing a bag-lunch she ate in the library. Zach saw it all, she specifically saw him watch girls pull her hair. Boys brayed like asses, made cutting insinuations about her lurid sexual habits, her feminine hygiene, none of which were true, but it didn’t matter. Zach witnessed all of this and did nothing. How could he just stand by and not defend her, she wanted to know. And the thing is she had never realized how much in love with him she was until it had slowly tapered and died. Some things you don’t know you feel until you don’t anymore. It had been agony for her.Cara rolled over to check her legs, wanted to be sure they didn’t burn. She reached beside her for a few single-serving sugar packets, sprinkled them across the bisected face of a lemon, and sucked on it. She liked tart things, liked the pucker in her face, the vivisected taste-buds. She replaced the fruit bowl on the ground and scowled at a new thought, that she had always had lovely legs, she only had to move away from Afton before people would look with enough tolerance to appreciate them. No one in Salt Lake City had known her at first and therefore had no reason to harbor prejudice. That’s what had changed her life, and nothing deeper. She felt revolted at the thought of people. She’d gone to the University of Utah a virgin and taken three lovers since. The first worked as a coffee-slinger not far from campus. She’d resisted him almost a year before giving in. They made love through the fall and spring. He took a summer job with the Forest Service in Alaska and swore he would return for her in the fall. But the affair lost its luster in remembrance and his heartsick letters went unanswered. If he ever returned he did not try to see her again. She felt gross inside for having told this man she’d loved him, a wasted confession that seemed foolish now and untrue.The second she’d taken too hastily. She barely knew him, twice her age, an adjunct faculty member. She chose him because he was older, more mature, distanced from the pettiness and arbitrary social codes of young people. The affair lasted six weeks before she could no longer bear her guilt and sent him back to his estranged wife and children. His last words to Cara were spent extracting a promise that no one must ever find out about them. A knocking roused her. She stood and slipped briskly into the complimentary disposable hotel slippers. It was a valet at the door, stooped like her father but much older, with a merry smile. He delivered a dozen anonymous red roses. They were long stemmed and the petals still glistened with spray. The valet didn’t know who they were from, he was only an errand runner, but when she cocked an eyebrow he averted his eyes and confessed he was sworn to secrecy. She found Zach in the arcade playing ski ball. “Here’s the thing,” she told him before he realized she was at his shoulder, “I don’t think you really like me. Nothing’s changed about me. If you’d been able to see back then, things might be different. You just want what you can’t have, and once you have it, you won’t want it anymore. So why ruin it for you? I’ve always been this girl, and I’ve always had these legs.”And she was gone before he could collect a decent argument. * * * *Cara skied alone after that. She didn’t want to be with Zach and she couldn’t ski with her parents because they would know something was wrong since she avoided them ruthlessly. She thought it would be nice to ski a day with the Hutsons but it would be impossible to extract them from her parents. She’d always preferred Zach’s parents to her own and cherished their advice which seemed so much wiser. She especially liked Mr. Hutson. He doted on his wife. He was an old cowboy at heart but his coarseness quickly softened under Mrs. Hutson’s eyes. He loved her—you didn’t have to ask, it was obvious to watch him look at her—he was attuned to her every inflection. Not like her father who was barely a man at all. Zach changed after the incident in the arcade. His advances received fervor, as if what she’d said encouraged him in some way. His earnestness was gone. He was absolutely lighthearted and each of her denials enchanted him. He smiled, laughed, made jokes. He winked at her as though they shared a scandal and persisted in his affection. Zach invited her to dinner, for walks, for movies in his room. Cara would not be fooled. She was seasoned in trite maneuvers.Her third lover was the complicated one. She met him as a sophomore in an acting class. He was brooding, sensitive, inquisitive, and, sure, beautiful. His tactics were similar to Zach’s, sincere if unoriginal. She repelled him six months before she allowed him buy her dinner. She threw herself with a fury into his love. But it couldn’t go on this way, he said, he needed his independence. He wanted her to entertain other men to make him feel less guilty; he wanted to continue seeing her, too, he loved her. Cara, feeling unsophisticated for wanting an exclusive relationship, had agreed to the arrangement. But she knew when she returned to Salt Lake City she was done with it, no last row for old time’s sake. Zach’s knee felt better the next day and she couldn’t get rid of him. The snow was packed dense and Zach was a faster skier than she. He followed up and down the mountain charming as ever and unmarred by her refusals. “You know there’s a lot about me you don’t know,” he said. “You think you do, but you don’t.”“I’m sure that’s true.”“Yeah, like did you know I want to have a family someday? I plan on being a responsible family man. Sure, I was crazy as a kid, but a guy grows up. He discovers what’s important. I respect women a lot.” She did not flinch. “A lot,” he insisted. He thought a while and changed tactics. “Look, why not stop for lunch at the lodge. I know you don’t believe anything I say and you got good reason. Let me explain myself and you can decide if I’m full of it.”“I’m not hungry.”

She was ravaged by bitterness. She could see the difficult life she set herself up for. Perhaps Zach was serious about what he wanted and perhaps they were compatible sexually, socially, philosophically, parentally, and in a myriad of other ways necessary for successful partnership. Perhaps not. It would cost something to find out. Cara wasn’t sure she wanted children, but certainly she wanted love. Could anyone be fulfilled without love, she wondered. She pictured going her whole life without a consistent male presence and shuddered. She would have to risk herself again sooner or later or die unmade. No way around it. No one could have heat in them without being scalded. If she would have to take a chance on someone, why not Zach Hutson?That evening Zach didn’t come to dinner. The six of them had plans to eat together in the hotel restaurant. Mrs. Hutson excused Zach’s absence by speculating his leg was probably acting up. Cara knew better. Her refusal to have lunch had taken the wind out of him. She wasn’t going to let it make her feel bad, though. If Zach wanted to behave like a child and let it ruin his vacation it was his decision. She needed the break anyway. * * * *

Zach was grateful for the break. He told his parents to go down without him, he wasn’t up to it. His knee wasn’t bothering him but he really didn’t want to show his face defeated at the dinner table. He preferred to feel sorry for himself in solitary. He flipped through the television channels and rummaged a copy of the local paper but nothing interested him. He whipped himself for not having the courage to approach Cara in school. He’d been too in awe of her; he simply lacked confidence. He hadn’t wanted her badly enough then and nothing could be done to change it. If that finished him, so be it.And he wasn’t being completely honest about it. Even if he had the courage he wouldn’t have acted. He thought himself above her for all the stupid reasons of caste. He’d been plenty occupied with other girls. The problem was he’d felt nothing for them, who cared how sought they were supposed to be? The chase was consummated and emptiness followed. Sex excited him only for its newness and once it wasn’t new he was restless, of a shallow heart, and again unhappy. Mere erotic pleasure had disappointed and he understood what he wanted wasn’t sex; it was Cara.Overnight it snowed a fresh four inches according to the ski report. The powder gleamed diamond studded. Clouds mirrored clouds on earth as in heaven, a gorgeous day partly cloudy and bomber to skiers. Zach looked out the window at the fluffy bolls and thought better. Carving moguls hurt his knee and new snow sat heavy on his skis. He would wait for it to be packed down and do some speed skiing in the afternoon. He found Cara eating breakfast alone and joined her. “I’m not going up yet,” he said and tapped his knee. “Make sure and pack it down for me,” he winked, “I’ll follow your tracks later.” She sighed, “Zach, look, thanks for the flowers. I owe you an apology.”“Well, if this means you’re giving me the opportunity, there’re a few things I’d like to explain.”He told her he was not a hoaxer, he in no way meant to humiliate her, his feelings were genuine. He told her he wasn’t seeing anyone, had not seriously seen anyone in almost two years, and she, Cara, was the reason for his celibacy. He admitted when he was younger he got a little out of control but there was no use feeling ashamed and no way to change it. Further, he felt stupid for not realizing it years ago, he should have acted then but he had been a shallow coward; he wasn’t anymore, though plainly he paid for it now. He finished by swearing a passionate storm of love, named her virtues, the usual among women as well as some uniquely hers. He regaled her complete with awkward pauses as he searched his heart for the perfect word—insisting he couldn’t settle for one that was close—clichés, platitudes, plenty of bombast, more than one mixed metaphor, and a series of half plagiarized song lyrics, all trying to describe to her the way she made him feel.“It’s been killing me wanting to tell you this stuff,” Zach said, “All I’m asking is for you to see me seriously. Let me take you out. See me as a guy for a change, not a childhood friend.”They spent the morning over cappuccinos in the restaurant. Cara, visibly moved, trembled, told Zach how she’d fallen in love with stage theatre while in high school, had taken a few introductory workshops, and decided to major in theatre. In a summer acting workshop a boy had fallen in love with her. It was the first attention she’d ever received from a boy, unwanted as it was—he creeped her out. Followed her around much the way Zach was doing, wouldn’t take no for an answer; the two of them, she told Zach, would surely get along like pals. The exercise was supposed to work on dramatic delivery, to teach students how to make moments of intense action appear spontaneous to the audience, not so rehearsed. She was Stella and this boy, of course, was Stanley. He had yelled at her, pushed her around, and it dawned on Cara that he wasn’t yelling at Stella—he was yelling at her, the real her. He threw her down on the bed, got on her, and called her Cara. “The son of a bitch used my real name,” she told Zach. “We stared at each other for a dead second. The whole room went quiet. I slapped his face and he ran out, I think crying. He never came back, just dropped out. He didn’t want to be seen again after that, after having confessed himself to everyone. So that’s why I admire what you just did, Zach. It takes courage to be vulnerable and still look the world in the eye.”They skied a few runs and diverted themselves in a snowball fight on the side of the mountain broken up by ski patrol. They approached the patio at the Saint Bernard holding hands but their parents were still skiing and they had lunch alone. Cara asked Zach if he’d ever tasted merlot and dark chocolate which he hadn’t.“Oh, you must,” she cried. “It’s wonderful! It’s better than bad sex. That’s what they call it at school, ‘better than bad sex.’” Zach knew what it meant. He believed many things to be better than bad sex. “But how are we going to get wine?” he asked. Cara ordered two glasses of merlot and a bar of dark chocolate.“Are you crazy,” Zach whispered bent low over the table. “What if they card us?”Cara dismissed him with a hand, “They won’t.” They giggled over the tart wine and bitter chocolate, and Zach, who was unaccustomed to drinking at all, was slightly drunk when their parents came looking for them. Mrs. Neal in particular was vexed by the alcohol served their children, but not especially angry, and a little drunk herself.* * * *

Cara felt light as a thousand clichés—air, angels, feathers, whatever. Falling in love with Zach gave her to childhood the way old movies did. A long sleeping joy now ached within her. Her cramped heart stretched and tingled, stirred vivid again. It made more sense than any rational fact, that she should love Zach Hutson. She felt as though she lived a dream and everything was flooded with romance ancient and somehow timeless. It felt right as nothing ever had and the idea that it was too much a fairytale now seemed superstitious, for it was happening. She told him about her failed love affairs, the burden of rejection, her fear of lovelessness. She told him how disappointed with love she felt, how exhausted she was of boys and sex and playing grown-up. She told Zach how she, too, had always loved him, had wanted him to pay attention to her, even when they were young, had felt the innocent unselfish love of children for him. She asked him how he could bear to see her suffer in the halls of Star Valley High, why he never lifted a hand in objection or raised his voice to protect her. He understood. He was sorry. He said there was no excuse, he had been an arrogant kid, he hadn’t bothered to notice and that was no good reason. She shook her head, she knew it, she just needed to hear him say it.She remained skeptical to Zach’s oaths. He told her he would email her every day and soon as he could he’d come to Salt Lake City and enroll in the community college there; he didn’t like the University of Wyoming anyway. Cara told him she might entertain him seriously, she wanted to, but there were things he would have to do. She forbade him broach the topic of sex with her, made him declare his love and intentions to his parents, told him for god’s sake you’re not a linebacker anymore, cultivate bad habits! Over dinner that night Zach told his parents and hers that he loved Cara Neal, he would be good to her—which was only reasonable since she meant more to him than life—and if anyone had congratulations, advice, or reservations, he’d just as soon hear ‘em to his face. He kissed her, held her, but whatever fire was burning he kept to himself. He also nursed a mild tolerance for vodka. He seemed so ardent she wondered how she could have doubted so long. She had reservations but every day consciously allowed herself to be a little more seduced. She felt for the first time that he was sincere. Only two days remained before she would fly back to Utah and she felt foolish for letting so much time slip by when she could have been alive with Zach. Her parents announced they and the Hutson’s were spending the evening bar hopping in town and she and Zach made a rendezvous of the hotel’s heated swimming pool. * * * *

Zach brushed his teeth twice in preparation and studied his physique and complexion in the mirror. So much time was spent rehabilitating his knee after the injury his body conditioning had gone completely. A layer of flaccid skin covered him like rubber but he hardly cared. For once in his life he believed—he knew—a girl loved him for who he was deeper down. He was alone in the pool fifteen minutes swimming laps. Cara came draped in her jacket with her hair tied in a pool-towel. She smiled shyly, took down and shook out her hair, and let the jacket slip off. She was exquisite. There was not a single sharp angle on her whole body; her contours flowed from a delicate geometry as if composed of a breathing stream. The dark hair, freckled shoulders, high breasts—she was just as he remembered—and he throbbed inside and out. He could not speak for fear of weeping. She lowered herself into the water and swam to him. He held her in his arms, stroking her hair and kissing her face. A thought occurred to Zach and he held her at arms length, “I used to look at you through the window,” he said. “The curtain was open and the light was on and I would watch you get out of the shower and dry off. Did you know I could see you?” Cara blushed and nodded, yes, she knew. Zach laughed, held her to him, and kissed her brow. She removed her bikini top, bade him kiss her breasts like small babes. It seemed ridiculous they’d met at the pool for now it was obvious what both meant to do. They dressed quickly and returned to his room.They left the lights out, the only sound the condemning tick of a wind up clock. Their mouths had trouble finding one another in the dark. Zach tried to enter her too soon and she shrank beneath him, shifted, stroked herself. Their eyes adjusted as they bled together, and for a time Zach feared he couldn’t come but then came too soon. Cara sighed, caressed him lightly.Zach slept fitfully and woke in the grip of a razed knee. He watched daylight rove the sodden hotel room floor confused and deeply disgusted, knew what he must do and was revolted. He considered keeping quiet, going back to bed as if normal, living a lie to protect Cara’s feelings, but knew eventually it would be worse that way. Cara touched his back and he flinched. He felt nauseous, warned her away with his eyes. A vagueness came over her, glazed her face featureless as glass and she reached for her jacket to hide from his weeping eyes. He limped to dress too conscious of Cara’s watching. He convulsed mutely at something frightening about himself though not so horrible as first he thought. He heard the clock drone and he heard Cara crush the fifty dollar bill to her open breast. Standing before the bed he cried where Cara knelt over beautiful legs hidden beneath her jacket hem. She smoothed the money straight again and laid it carefully on the sheet for him to take. Zach sobbed hysterically. Cara knelt before him with her palms raised in distorted prayer while he begged for her to stop.

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